


Empatheia

by Emily64cooper



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), I Don't Even Know, Light Angst, Mild torture, Non-Graphic Violence, Prompt Fic, but also hopeful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 05:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13804410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emily64cooper/pseuds/Emily64cooper
Summary: “Snoke did this?” she questions. Rey lifts her eyes to look him over. She’s learned through these few force connections that, though she can intuit his emotions if she tries, it’s far easier to read him through his facial expressions.Ben’s eyes flicker to hers.  “Hurts, doesn’t it?”





	Empatheia

Rey shoots suddenly up one night, a fiery ache pulsing in her head. The pain is blinding, a horrible white light that engulfs every inch of her mind in flames. She throws the heels of her hands over her eyes, pushing hard, trying to squeeze the torment out without fortuity. Her heart rate speeds up, her skin flushes with sweat, and it’s all she can do to breathe through the pain. The scratch of her sheets against her bare skin feels like knives, the ambient light of the dying embers a towering inferno in her head.

And then it stops.

She lets out a few shaky breaths, trying to return her body to homeostasis. Her pulse lowers, her skin cools, and she’s able to think again. She sits up, swinging her feet over the edge of the bed to rest against the floor, grounding herself. The light of the dying fire fades from a roar to a whisper, and she concentrates on the speck of light and the sound of her breaths, in and out, in and out.

That’s when she realizes that it’s not just her own breathing she’s hearing--he’s here too.

“What was that?” she fires at him by way of greeting. 

Ben is on all fours on the floor, panting, obviously feeling the exertion of the torture they just shared, and through the bond she can feel him utilizing well-honed techniques to reel himself in. He’s practiced at this, she realizes.

He’s done this before.

“Snoke did this?” she questions. Rey lifts her eyes to look him over. She’s learned through these few force connections that, though she can intuit his emotions if she tries, it’s far easier to read him through his facial expressions. 

Ben’s eyes flicker to hers. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”

She blinks back a tear.

“He’s done this to you before?” she asks. But she needn’t question it. She knows. “He does this often.”

“It’s nothing,” he answers quickly. Too quickly. Automatically. He bows his head, looking away.

_Yes_ , she hears.

“Ben,” she encourages. His eyes flit back up to meet hers, searching for absolution. He must find it, because something in him changes, shifts into or out of place, and when he speaks again, there’s a little more light in him.

“Everyday,” he says, all in a rush, as if admitting the truth quickly will make it less true, make it less of a defiance against his master. 

He comes to sit beside her on the bed, a proper distance kept between them. She moves quickly to take his hand. He feels just as warm and real as he had when they touched before, and she takes a moment to marvel in it, just as she had then, to marvel in them, two battered souls reaching across worlds to touch. 

She had never realized how touched-starved she had been until she met him.

He stares down at their joined hands for several beats, then speaks without looking up. “I’m sorry. What he does--I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. Even you.”

Ben pulls away from her after that, crossing the room in a few long strides and turning away. He’s closing himself off, berating himself for his weaknesses, for his admission, and she lets him. But Rey, _oh yes_ , she’s invigorated. The light in him is weak, but it’s there, it’s not dead, and he is willing to share some of it with her. She felt a hint of it when they first touched hands, but now she’s sure. This is a step in the right direction. She can bring him home, for Leia, for Han. For Ben himself. She can bring him into the light and keep him there. Safe. Together. And together, they might be able to win this.

She crosses to him then, resolute, and lays a gentle hand between his shoulder blades. “Let me come to you,” she says fiercely. “Let me help you.”

Rey feels a rush of emotion across the bond--fear, longing, loneliness, hope--and she lets them swirl around her until he realizes they’ve slipped out and begins to reign them in. 

He turns back to her then, his response on his lips, but he fades from her view before he can say anything. It’s no matter. She knows what she must do. “I’m coming, Ben,” she murmurs, pulling herself together. 

Back in his rooms on the _Supremacy_ , Ben responds. 

“Don’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first jump back into the world of fanfiction in quite some time, and it has been a blast. A response to a prompt on tumblr. You can find me there on my fanfic sideblog at emily64cooper or my personal blog at asibecomethesea.


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